Making History
by Cleopatra1Selene
Summary: After the war, Hermione returns to school to finish her 7th year. Severus Snape survives his attack and after months in recovery returns to Hogwarts to teach. Personalities clash as Hermione tries to convince him to help her with her book. Non epilogue compliant. Hermione/Snape.


**Authors note: This is my first story so be nice! Constructive criticism is welcome. It's unbeta'd so if anyone likes Hermione/Snape fiction and wants to give it ago, then let me know. Hope you enjoy xx**

Fingernails tapping on the arm of the chair. She watched intently, as each perfectly shaped crescent clicked on the grainy surface, on after the other, over and over, in a thrumming rhythm. They had been shaped perfectly, each nail stopping exactly at the tip of his narrow fingers. The corner of her lips nearly twitched in amusement at the thought of him patiently filing his nails, it just didn't suit him. The perfect nails fit with the rest of his hands, long fingered and slender, the muscles and tendons of his hand rippling and shifting beneath his pale skin. They were elegant hands, yet not feminine. They were most certainly a man's hands, and she admired them.

"Miss Granger,"

The clicking fingers stopped and Hermione was shaken out of her reverie. She glanced up at him warily, watching his face carefully. He didn't say anything, not for a full minute, as she took in his features; lank hair, pinned at the back of his neck, but still escaping to fall in oily strands around his pale, gaunt face. He looked ill. His face was devoid of colour, his features more prominent than ever in comparison with his sunken cheeks. His pale skin just clung to the bone, sharp, angular cheekbones, narrow jaw and large, beak-like nose. Hermione felt a shot of guilt in her stomach and didn't know why. She glanced away uneasily, still waiting for him to put her out of her misery and speak.

Finally, he moved, reached down below his desk to extract a thick wad of parchment that she immediately recognised.

_Shit! How did he get his hands on that?_

She opened her mouth to protest, but before a word escaped her lips, his hand slammed down on the surface of her desk and she jumped, instead letting out a little squeak of fear. He glared at her across the table, his black eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. With his left hand, he pushed the parchment across the desk, and with his right, he flicked his wand so that it opened in front of her, revealing the first _mortifying _page.

She drew a shaky breath and looked back at him, trying to hold his stony gaze. He brought his hands together, and rested his chin on his fingers.

"Miss Granger, would you care to inform me, what in Merlin's name is the meaning of this?" His voice was low and cold, and sent shivers through her spine. She glanced at the parchment that hovered between them, the sketch that she'd spent hours on: the one of Severus Snape, lying half dead in a pool of his own blood in the Shrieking Shack. She met his eyes again and opened her mouth to speak.

"I –"

She faltered, her voice betraying her.

"I should think it's fairly simple what I'm asking you Miss Granger. I only wish to know why the bloody hell you carry a sketch of me around with you."

She nodded quickly

"Yes, of course sir, I understand why you'd want to know, I just, I... well you see, I don't carry it around with me all the time, it was just, well, I had lessons free before potions on Monday night, and I spend it in the library, and I just, well I just felt like drawing it, you, I mean, it must have fell out of my bag you see, when I was in Potions with you and I – "

"Thank you Miss Granger, that's quite enough of your incessant nonsense," He snapped, interrupting her babbling. She nodded again and looked at her lap, praying to God that he wouldn't question her any further. She twisted her fingers nervously while she waited for him to speak.

"And what about this Miss Granger, what does this mean?" he continued, and she looked up as he flipped the paper around. She felt the blush in her cheeks darkening as she struggled to find some excuse that wouldn't reveal her secret.

"Miss Granger, answer me, why do you have a list of war heroes, with my bloody name on it?" He repeated irritably. She bit her lip nervously,

"Well, I think you're a war hero, you should be on that list," She stammered. He raised an eyebrow, and she shrank back.

"And why do you have a list of war heroes in the first place," He pressed, and she squirmed uncomfortably.

"I just did, I just wrote a list," She whispered, hating herself for allowing him to make her this bloody nervous. His thin lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

"I don't think so somehow. I think this is some Gryffindor attempt at some kind of ridiculous war memorial. I think you decided that I was some unsung hero, and you would reveal to the world about how _wonderful _I am," He hissed, leaning over the desk at her, uncomfortably close. She flushed and sank further into her seat.

"Am I close, Miss Granger? You will tell me what this is girl, you will tell me right now... and if you don't, I must remind you that I am adept at other means of extracting information, and I. Will. Not. Hesitate,"

Hermione couldn't help it, she whimpered in fear, and he sneered. She watched him as he sat back in her chair and stared at her expectantly.

"I was going to write a book," She whispered, barely audible. His eyes widened for a second, then narrowed.

"A book? Oh I see, a nice little account of your adventures hmm, something to show the world how hard you had it searching for horcruxes with Potter and Weasley. And you, with your bleeding Gryffindor heart, thought that you could put my story in there? How poor little Severus Snape loved Lily Evans? I bet you all had a laugh about that didn't you? All my fucking memories laid bare for the Golden Trio. Well, Granger, let me tell you something, I will not be in your bloody book, if I even hear a whisper of my name I will sue you for everything you own,"

He stopped abruptly, glaring down at her, and for the first time, she saw how dangerous he could be. He looked ready to Avada her, and yet at the same time, she couldn't help but respond.

"Actually sir, it wasn't about Harry and Ron and I at all. Of course, I was going to outline what we did, but it was going to be about the dark side, about Tom Riddle and how he came to be Lord Voldemort," He voice wavered as she explained, but through her fear, she wanted someone to hear her ideas, and she let herself give a little smile. He looked at her incredulously, before laughing, a cold cruel laugh, and she shrank before him, tears of fury and embarrassment stinging her eyes.

"You don't even know what you're talking about Granger. You think you know, you think you have some idea what it was like to serve beneath _him, _but you know nothing. The kind of things that we did, what we saw..." He trailed off, his eyes going blank for a moment. She could barely breathe, watching him as he blinked hard and turned to stare at her once again.

"Miss Granger, give up on this ridiculous idea. Ten points from Gryffindor for drawing a teacher, and a detention tomorrow night, seven o'clock," His voice was short and clipped, and with that, he shoved his chair back noisily and turned to the door of his chambers.

"But sir I - ,"

"Leave!"

She scrambled to her feet and rushed out of the room, stumbling as she reached the opposite wall. He had told her to give up. No way. She was Hermione Granger, and she had some planning to do.


End file.
